


About You

by YlvaUllsdotter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 18+, Angst, Body Image, Coitus, Dean Gives Oral Sex, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Dean x Reader, F/M, Fanfiction, Fingering, Fluff, Kari’s 9.5k British Song Challenge, NSFW, One-Shot, Oral Sex, Reader Insert, SPN - Freeform, Self-Esteem Issues, Sex, Smut, Supernatural - Freeform, Vaginal Sex, fluffy!Dean, intercourse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 06:14:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14611311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YlvaUllsdotter/pseuds/YlvaUllsdotter
Summary: Even though you and Dean have been together for a while now, you still feel self-conscious and shy, especially in bed. Dean has made it his mission to prove you wrong.





	About You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [@thing-you-do-with-that-thing](http://thing-you-do-with-that-thing.tumblr.com/)’s British Song Challenge. My prompt was the song About You by Shane Filan. I had never heard this song before, but I thought the lyrics were really nice and figured I could make it work since I couldn’t have my first, or second, choice. I’ve used the lyrics as inspiration for the story, and the title of the song as the title for the fic. I also listened to the song while writing. I hope you enjoy it. I apologize for nothing.

I am a big girl. Not just curvy, or plus-sized, but straight up fat. I like to joke that I am in shape, round is a shape. Although to be completely honest, even when I am joking about it, a part of me always feels self-conscious and insecure. Dean likes to call me his Big Beautiful Woman, and he always makes me feel desired, but sometimes the thoughts in my head get the better of me.

Some mornings I wake up and just feel like there is no part of me that I even like, let alone love. I lie in bed feeling miserable, every ounce of me feeling like it weighs double, holding me down, making it almost impossible to move. Dean is usually snuggled up next to me, his arm around me, and that should make me feel better, but on those mornings nothing helps. 

Those are the days I question why someone like Dean would ever want to be with someone like me. He is perfect. Gorgeous. Kind. Generous. Loving. Protective. All the things that made me fall in love with him in the first place. I am none of those things. At least not according to my twisted mind. On those days, I just feel useless and fat, a burden. 

In the beginning, before Dean finally convinced me that he loved me, I was on the verge of leaving so many times. There was no way I could keep up with the Winchesters on a hunt, and I was not exactly indispensable as a researcher either. They had managed just fine for over a decade on their own, clearly, they had no need for me.

When Dean realized how I felt, he had made it his mission to prove me wrong. They might not technically need me, but they wanted me there. Sam helped, of course, but Dean was the one who was always right there, persuading, encouraging, and convincing me that I needed to stay.

The first time Dean kissed me I thought I had ended up in a Djinn dreamworld. Because someone like Dean could never want to be with someone like me. He convinced me his feelings were real, eventually. Although on days like these, I still have trouble believing.

I feel Dean stir next to me, his arm tightens around me unconsciously, pulling me against him. Still half asleep, he nuzzles the back of my neck, his other hand sliding under me until I am completely encircled in his arms. 

“Mmmmhey, beautiful,” his raspy whisper tickles my ear and I feel his lips against the bare skin of my shoulder. As if he has sensed my emotions, he spends a few moments just holding me like that, his lips softly moving against my shoulder, up my neck, to the spot just behind my ear that makes me go crazy.

His fingers find my nipples, which have already perked up from his attentions. He rolls them between his fingers, and my lips part to let out a soft sigh of pleasure. Somehow Dean manages to roll us both so that he is hovering above me, where I lie on my back under him, and he does it while maintaining constant skin to skin contact. 

When I keep my eyes closed, he dips down and places soft butterfly kisses on my lips, and cheeks, my nose, and eyelids. When he pulls away, he waits, with the patience of an angel, until I reluctantly open my eyes. Reluctant, because no matter the feelings between us, I am afraid of what I will see in his eyes. 

My fear is completely unfounded, of course. His green eyes brim with love and adoration as he looks at me and just the sight of him manages to dissipate some of my negative emotions. 

Without saying a word, Dean scoots down to kneel between my legs. With gentle touches, he moves my hands to my own breasts, prompting me to touch myself. He does this sometimes, he claims he loves to watch me. I humor him, not too reluctantly, caressing and squeezing my breasts, rolling my nipples between my fingers. My eyes close, and I imagine his hands on me, until I feel his actual hands stroke along my thighs and converge on my belly. 

Almost involuntarily, I cringe a little, and Dean stops his hands for a moment. 

“Look at me, babe,” he asks softly, and I open my eyes. The look on his face as he lets his eyes roam my body brings tears to my eyes. It is pure reverence. His hands caress my skin, and his lips fall open as his breath grows short. He leans in and places little kisses on my stretch marks and my scars, each one a story in its own right. He worships my body with his hands and his mouth and with each caress and each kiss he dispels a little bit of those negative feelings.

His calloused hands slowly dragging over my hardened nipples has me arching my back into his touch. My soft moans of pleasure almost drown out his whispers as he plays me like an instrument.

“So beautiful. So perfect. My Goddess. I love you so much.”

Finally, with his mouth on my pussy, his tongue working some sort of magic as he makes me soar higher and higher, all of the negative thoughts are washed away when I reach my climax, the pleasure hitting me like a tsunami.

I am still floating on my high when he shifts and enters me. He gathers me into his arms, his eyes seeking and finding mine. Our gazes locked together, he makes love to me slowly and sensually, making me feel all of his love for me in every touch, every kiss, every slow thrust, as he drives me towards another orgasm.

His deep voice vibrates through me as he tells me how beautiful I am, how perfect, how much he loves me. We are both sweating and panting by the time I finally tumble over the edge again, pulling him with me when my muscles spasm around his length inside me.

We stay like that for what feels like forever, neither of us willing to move and end the moment. When we finally have to break apart, he kisses me slowly, his hand cradling my face. 

“I love you,” he says softly, and the feelings are evident in his eyes when he looks at me.


End file.
